


Without A Voice

by CuriousThimble



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Origins
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Father-Daughter Relationship, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 16:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousThimble/pseuds/CuriousThimble
Summary: After talking with her father, Anora is forced to decide if she is willing to live in the shadow of a fool.





	Without A Voice

All her life, Anora had been the obedient, lovely daughter of a hero of the realm. When she was a small child her father started taking her to court with him for half the year, leaving her mother Celia at home in Gwaren where she was happiest. That’s where she’d met Cailan, when she was seven years old and he was five. She hadn’t so much as blinked when her father had explained that she and Cailan were betrothed and would marry when they grew older.

 

She liked Cailan well enough. He was a fun boy who was eager to do anything that pleased her. All it took was a little encouragement and a smile, and anything she wanted was hers. It was nice, having him follow her around like a puppy, and made her feel important. That was one of the reasons she never really took to the other children in the palace- they were beneath her, and feared adults and their punishments. Anora, on the other hand, feared nothing and no one.

 

It was simply her way- someone would attempt to scold or correct her, and she would toss her golden tresses and lift her chin, staring them down with cold blue eyes. Cailan could never back down when she did that, and he, too, would stand up and demand to be left alone. Later he would breathe a sigh of relief and smile charmingly at whoever they’d offended, garnering instant forgiveness. It was a trick she learned from Cailan, and used on him, often. 

 

And now, years later, she stands in her father’s study, hands clasped calmly in front of her, listening to Loghain tell her the time has come.

 

“You and Cailan have been playing at betrothal long enough, Anora,” he says in his brusque, straight-forward way. “The two of you will be married this summer.”

 

“This summer? That’s only a few months away, Father,” she notes. “How will a wedding be planned so quickly?”

 

“Queen Rowan and I planned it years ago,” he says dismissively, looking down at the papers on his desk. “There will be little left for you to do beside be there on time.”

 

“Father, I…” 

 

“Yes, Anora?” he asks, looking up at her. “Is there a problem? Do you not wish to be queen of Ferelden? To be changed from the daughter of an outlaw and cabinetmaker into a princess?”

 

Anora’s eyes open wide and her hands tighten slightly. “Of course I do! I just...I was just wondering what my duties would be, as princess-consort?”

 

Loghain nods, squinting down at his desk again. “I doubt it will be very different than it is now. You’re to keep Cailan in line, watch over his decisions and not allow a foolish one-”

 

“Father, he  _ is _ a fool,” she says softly.

 

“Then you will make it look as if he isn’t!” Loghain says sharply. “Anora, this is what I’ve been wanting for you your entire life. All you have to do is continue quietly leading him. He listens to you, he trusts you. You’re going to be running the nation from behind him, just keep things in order and let him have the glory. That’s what the Mac Tirs  _ do. _ ”

 

“And what about what I want?” she demands. “What about my ambitions, Father? Being queen is pointless if-”

 

“This  _ is _ your ambition!” he shouts. “Giving the prince an heir and tying the Mac Tirs and Theirins together is your life’s work! You have always known you would marry Cailan, why are you fighting about it now? And what ambitions do you have?”

 

“First, I want to strengthen our economy through better trade agreements,” she says simply. “I’ve been studying our current contracts and-”

 

“And you will explain it all to Cailan, and  _ he _ will see that it’s taken care of,” Loghain orders. “Anora, you will achieve your goals, but Cailan must be the hand that performs it. You rule Cailan- as you have since you were children- and he rules Ferelden. But  _ you _ stay in power,” he adds gently. “Do you understand?”

 

Anora lowers her gaze, trying not to show her father her frustration. “Yes, Father.”

 

“Very good. Now leave me, I have much to do.”

 

She bows her head- something she  _ only _ does for her father and the king- and quietly goes to her rooms. Her maid Erlina is waiting for her, eager to hear what the teryn has had to say, but Anora sends her away without sharing the news. Only when she’s alone does she go into her bed chamber and close the door quietly, allowing her anger to spill out.

 

“Let him have the glory!” she huffs, throwing a pillow across the room. “I can’t believe this! I’m expected to be queen in name only? What about  _ me? _ ” she cries, pacing. Two little lines form between her brows- just like her father- as she scowls at the floor. “ _ It’s what Mac Tirs  _ **_do,_ ** ” she mocks, kicking her trunk. “I’m just supposed to lead Cailan by the hand and whisper in his ear what to do and what to say, nevermind what  _ I  _ want to do!  _ He _ gets to rule, and I get to plan dinner parties and warm his bed!”

 

“Madam, is there anything you-”

 

“Go away Erlina!” she shouts, throwing a vase at the door. It shatters, and the bright hothouse flowers fall to the floor in a mess of water and crockery. “Just leave me alone!”

 

The Orleasian elf squeaks out a hasty response, and her footsteps hurry away. The girl always reminds her of a squirrel, nervous and quick, and Anora is certain that as soon as she opens the door again Erlina will be standing there with a broom to sweep up the mess.

 

With a sigh, Anora stares at herself in the mirror.  _ A pretty face, _ she thinks, touching her nose.  _ A little too sharp for a girl, _ she adds, tracing the small hook that mirrors her father’s nose perfectly.  _ Hair like my mother. An obedient daughter, always in control of those around her. Intelligent and independent. My father taught me how to use what I have to get what we want. I’m more his daughter than my mother’s. I don’t understand! Father has always told me to speak my mind, to use my voice! I could be in the Landsmeet through my own family title! Why should I lose my voice just for Cailan? _

 

She stares into the mirror a long time, furious that she should have to silence herself for a man. That her  _ father _ was silencing her to the world.  _ Is it worth it? _ she wonders.  _ Is getting what I want worth losing a part of myself? _

 

_ Yes. _

 

_ I want to be Queen of Ferelden, _ she decides, her eyes turning to ice. Carefully, she rearranges her expression to one of frigid detachment.

 

“And if I have to rule through him,” she says to her reflection, “I will. I may have to do it without a voice, but his words will be  _ mine _ .”


End file.
